


A Lesson in Decision Making

by Detective_Animator



Series: A. K. A. How to Run from Your Problems [2]
Category: Don't Trust the B---- in Apartment 23, Jessica Jones (TV)
Genre: AU-crossover, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Blackmail, Death Threats, F/M, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Jessica Jones is Chloe, Jessica lies a lot, Kilgrave is a walking trigger, Lots of Languge, Manipulation, Night Terrors, PTSD Jessica Jones, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Secrets, Substance Abuse, crossover AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-17
Updated: 2016-03-20
Packaged: 2018-05-27 05:00:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 12,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6270547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Detective_Animator/pseuds/Detective_Animator
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>So, running from her problems hadn't exactly worked. At least, not how she'd planned it. Now with an offer being made, Jessica has no other choice but to actually face her demons. But she'll be dammed if she doesn't try running first.</p><p>Or in other words, running from your problems is still fucking difficult, expessically with an over-curious roommate who doesn't know anything and keeps asking questions, a best friend who is determined to help you when you don't want it, and a deranged prick who is the source of all your problems in the first place, and ready to cause more of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saturday Night and Sunday

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is up earlier than expected, and I'm already working on chapter 2, so that should follow this soon enough. Probably tomorrow.
> 
> I hadn't exactly anticipated really continuing this series. But after thinking about it, I am. There will be one, final installment after this one, though I don't know how long it'll end up being, this one I do know, will be seven chapters, each spanning a day minus the first one. Which will be picking up basically right where we left off in "A Lesson in Lies."

If you were to tell Jessica that a year in hiding would mean shit, she'd probably tell you that you were right. Because it was, and she'd hardly even tried really. Just changed her name, a few personality quirks, and her location. Anyone who knew her would know it was her.

But she should be running. She should be turning away and running.

But for whatever fucking reason, her brain has short circuited. It's stopped working for the time being and the only thing she can think of doing right now is following the host.

She doesn't think of running, she doesn't think of turning and bolting out because her brain is on autopilot. She is terrified of what he'll do.

For once she can't run, it's like she's back with him again. Trapped under false feelings and delusions of happiness.

Jessica steels herself, taking a step towards him, then another, and another until she reaches the white tablecloth covered table. It's a stark contrast against his dark suit, a dark plum shade that she hates. He slowly raises his eyes from the menu, a fucking smile on his face.

"You, leave us." His gaze snaps to the host, his tone short and abrupt. The host leaves without a second thought, and Jessica remains standing. She could snap his neck right now, but she's frozen in that spot, terrified to what he'd do if she did, or tried rather.

He turns back to her, gesturing with an open palm towards the chair across from him. "Well, don't just stand there, Jessica. You can sit if you'd like." He says calmly, clasping his hands together. Jessica feels her pulse race, her heartbeat picks up, and her blood pounds in her fingers. She's too uneasy to fully realize that he's not controlling her. Just being near him made her gut twist.

"No." The single syllable word pulls from her lips, and she watches as Kilgrave releases a sigh from his own.

"Bloody hell, Jessica. I'm not going to do anything. Cross my heart." He makes a gesture with his finger, drawing an 'x' over his heart. Jessica hesitates a moment longer, before she slowly slides into the seat.

"I don't believe you." She says finally, her voice stronger than she feels right now. Kilgrave as the nerve to look hurt, and he tips his chin slightly. "You don't have a heart." She adds on, cutting off whatever he was about to say. Kilgrave scowls at her, a flicker of rage twisting his face before it vanishes.

"Please, I have a heart. You're being melodramatic." He scoffs, waving his hand. Jessica narrows her eyes slightly, and she feels her phone buzz from where she half-tossed it half-dropped it on the table.

She ignores it, reaching for the glass of wine sitting on the table and taking a sip. It's expensive, of course, only the best for him. She's tempted to take another jab at him, but she's terrified to do that. Angering Kilgrave had never been smart. Someone always got hurt.

(Never her though. He didn't dare lay a finger on her, not when there were other people to use against her. Because God knows Jessica couldn't stand other people getting hurt because of her.)

"So, how did you come back? Why are you back? To torture me?" She fires off, and Kilgrave looks almost, _almost_ angry. Jessica isn't sure how to discribe the feeling that crosses his face for the briefest moments.

Her phone buzzes again, this time with a text. Or maybe a few.

"I'm not going to torture you. What would I possibly gain from that?" Kilgrave starts, and a waiter brings out two plates, setting them down. "I'm not cruel-" 

"-One might disagree-"

"- _But_ , I do want to talk." He finishes as if she hadn't spoken. Jessica can't help but be curious, interested. He's not controlling her. He could just tell her to come away with him again. Like he did last time. So why doesn't he?

"Okay, about what? About how you made me murder a woman, how you raped me?" Jessica spits, her voice sharp and angry. Kilgrave's face twists into a sneer. "I have nothing to say to you."

"I hate that word. I never-" He growls outs, and Jessica just about explodes. She doesn't though, because that could end badly.

"No, you raped me." She spits out, her voice furious and pure unadulterated rage coils in her gut. "I _never_ wanted any of it. _None_ of those thoughts were my own." Her fist hits the table sharply, causing the dishes to rattle on top.

"Well, how the bloody hell am I suppose to know!" Kilgrave sounds just as furious as she is. Jessica glares at him as he continues. "How am I suppose to know, if people are doing something of their own free will, or because I told them to?"

Jessica grits her teeth, grabbing her own chopsticks. She wants to stab them into his eyes.

"Of course you would. Try to pin the blame on others and never take any fucking responsibility for your own fucking actions." She growls, and he waves her statement off casually. "What about Reva?" She spits out, twisting her lips slightly.

"I didn't make you kill Reva, I said take care of her. You choose to kill her." He smirks just slightly.

" _What_?" The words have her almost speechless, almost. Her brain short circuits again and she can't think properly for a few seconds. Rage bubbles in her gut as she fully processes what he says, and the wooden chopsticks bend and snap under her fingers. The splinters fall and scatter across the table and floor around her. She opens her mouth to speak, but nothing seems to come out.

**_'Take care of her'_ **

Her phone buzzes again, and clearly Kilgrave has had enough of it.

"Answer your bloody phone, Jessica." His voice is short, and Jessica freezes, waiting for the telltale urge to answer it. He told her to do it, so she must want to do it. Right? 

She _wants_ to check her phone because _he told her too._

Right?

That was probably the hardest thing about this. She doesn't know if it was him telling her to do things, or her instinct to do what he says. After being held captive by him for so long, it's hard not too. It's confusing, emotions are mixed and jumbled up.

She is confused.

Her fingers twitch, and her phone buzzes again, she stares at it as a text notification pops up on the screen.

Along with 5 missed calls, 2 voicemails, and a whole slew of texts, both from June and Trish.

 **June-Sent at 8:15:** _Chloe, you ran out of the apartment pretty fast. Is everything okay?_

 **June-Sent at 8:20:** _I called Trish. Please talk to her, Chloe._

 **Trish-Sent at 8:25:** _Jessica, June just called. Said you ran out in a rush. She was worried. Call me._

 **Trish-Sent at 8:28:** _Jess pick up the phone._

 **Trish-Sent at 8:35:** _Jessica, I'm worried now. Please pick up._

Her gaze slides up to look at Kilgrave, and he gestures slightly to her phone. "Well, go on. Let them know that you're fine. Like we both know you will." He urges, he tells her too, though there's a hint of a mocking sneer in his tone. Jessica pauses, taking a few long seconds to sort through how this feels. How this exact feeling is compared too how over a year ago felt.

Its takes longer than she thought to do that. To sort through her feelings. Just being near him brought back old, buried feelings. Feelings that aren't hers, that she doesn't feel.

That she never has and never will feel.

She sets her phone down slowly without replying to the texts, shaking her head. "You can't control me." She whispers out those words, her voice firm and filled with something. Relief, perhaps.

"Ah, there it is. Took you long enough, Jessica." Kilgrave grins like a cat, sharp and wicked. Jessica manages to hide her shock, but barely. "I've know for some time. Part of the reason why I didn't seek you out first." He says offhandedly, busying himself with poking the chicken around on his plate.

"So then why now?" Jessica asks sharply, studying him. Her shoulders feel tense, and she shifts slightly. Her phone buzzes again, and Kilgrave glares at it. "Why come back now of all times? I was finally-"

"Because I missed you." Kilgrave breathes casually, interrupting her, as if they're long separated lovers who have finally found each other again. Jessica feels repulsed at the sentence, bile working it's way up her throat. She swallows it down as he continues. "You got away, no one's ever done that before." 

He leans forward, elbows resting on the table, his eyes searching hers. Jessica avoids his gaze, choosing to study the plate as he continues.

"You made me feel, yearning, Jessica. You made me feel loss, I know how that feels now." His voice is soft, and Jessica thinks there's a hint of loss in his tone.

She's pretty sure it's an act. It has to be. Because he's a fucking sociopath, and sociopaths do this shit all the time. This manipulative, mind game bullshit.

"You're a prick. A delusional asshole. You don't actually know what fucking _loss_ feels like." She snaps, and her phone buzzes again. This time it's another call from June. Kilgrave's glare leaves her face in favor for calling a waiter.

"Take her phone and toss it in the sink. I'm tired of hearing it ring." He orders dryly, his voice casual, but there's a hard edge to his tone, and his face is pinched in rage.

Jessica opens her mouth to speak, but she knows it's useless. The waiter snatches her phone up off the table and walks off.

"Was that necessary?" She deadpans, her eyes narrowing slightly at him.

"I'm trying to have a serious conversation. You, however, are being very uncooperative, Jessica." Kilgrave answers back, and Jessica pulls her lips downward into a scowl.

"Well then quit dodging your own fucking point, and get to it! Why the ever living _hell_ am I here?" She snaps back, thrusting her hand out and sending a glass flying across the room.

As soon as it shatters against the wall, the cooking staff rush out of the kitchen, razors pressed against their neck. Kilgrave leans back, arms folded over his chest casually.

"I knew you had safe guards. Of course you did, you fucking coward." Jessica sneers. Kilgrave's lip twitches into a look of disatisfaction. "Now make them stop." She orders sharply, her eyes flicking up to glance between the staff. Kilgrave sighs, turning slightly.

"You can stop with the razors." He relents off-handedly with a wave. "Clean up that mess she left, then leave." He adds before he leans forward again. "Now, back to our discussion. I have an offer, Jessica."

Jessica pauses, her curiousity peaked. Underneath all of the anger and desire to snap his neck, she's curious. Marginally curious, but curious. It's not exactly how he normally goes about this. Not that there's any other way he can now that he can't control.

"What, are you going to offer some peace offering? Some bullshit crap about love. How you're fucking sorry and want to have a new start?" She grits out, and Kilgrave gives a slight half-smile.

"Something like that." He breathes ominously, leaning back and crossing his legs. His arms fold tightly over his chest as he continues. "I do want to start new. I want us to be happy, Jessica." He starts, and Jessica gives him a dry look, not the least bit convinced. "I want to try get you to love me-"

"-Like I could ever love a repulsive bastard like you-"

"-I know, you'll see what I see. It'll take time. I know our, past, hasn't exactly given us a fresh start."

"No fucking shit." Jessica cuts in, her eyes narrowing. Her fingers curl around the edge of the table, and she watches Kilgrave lean back, his face a mask. "I don't fucking love you, I never will, you repulsive waste of a human being. If you even are human."

"Getting clever with the name calling, I see." Kilgrave deflects flippantly, a slow, almost cruel smile curling his lips. "I wonder how your apartment will look painted red, Jessica. Personally, it's not my color-"

"Hurt anyone, and I will fucking snap your neck where you stand." Jessica interrupts sharply, but she refrains from moving threateningly. "You do not, will not, harm any of my friends." Ruge burns in her gut, closely simmering with unease.

"Okay, okay. I won't hurt Pasty."

"Or June. No one else." Jessica grits, her fingers curling around the table.

"Oh, so now your friends with June?" His eyes slide up, a curious, almost mocking gleam in his eyes. Jessica opens her mouth to speak, but he waves her off. "I won't hurt poor June either. You have my word." Kilgrave relents. There's a brief pause before he speaks again. "But," he starts. "Only if you come with me. They're safe, as long as you come with me." Jessica freezes, her eyes darting around the room. She's silent for a few moments, processing the information.

"Where? Why the hell would I want to go anywhere with you?" She grits out, clenching her teeth together.

"Because if you don't, dear little June will never know what a job on wall-street is like, Jessie. Pasty will never get married... I'm sure you can fill in the rest." He starts, and Jessica manages to hide a shutter, but she feels sick, so sick.

"Can I have some time to think?" She asks, her voice coming out almost small. At least it sounds like it does. Kilgrave's face softens slightly.

"Of course, Jessica. You have a week. We'll meet back here, same time next week." Jessica stares at him for a moment, her shoulders stiff. Slowly, she stands, the chair scraping across the floor as she turns to leave.

"And Jessica?" She stops, freezing in that spot. "Smile for me, will you?" He says it to infuriate her, rage closes her throat up and she wants to whirl around and punch him.

Instead, she storms out, slamming the door to the resturant behind her.

\--

It doesn't take her long to find a pay phone. Until she realizes she doesn't have any change on her.

Well, she should have realized that when she couldn't buy a cab.

"Fuck." She snaps, glaring at the phone and shoving her hands into her pockets.

"Need change?"

Jessica freezes, whirling around on her heel and she comes face to face with probably the largest man she's seen. Her eyes slide up to his face, and it takes her a few moments to find her voice.

"Er... Yeah. Lost my phone." She manages once the shock wears off. The man grins, flashing stark white teeth against his dark skin.

"So, what's a pretty girl like you doing out here this late?" He asks, his tone curious. Jessica pauses, eyeing him doubtfully as he picks out two quarters from his pockets.

"I had dinner." Jessica deadpans, watching his movements carefully. She's wary, and rightfully so. "Could use a drink though." She adds as an afterthought, and the man pauses, two quarters dangling in his fingers. His eyes glance her up and down, before he pockets the change.

"Is that an invite?" He asks, a smile pulling on his lips. Jessica falters, and she almost smiles, but she doesn't. Instead, she shifts on her feet with a gleam in her eyes.

"Maybe." She says with a faint flirty tone in her voice. His dark eyes glint slightly, and he tips his head back behind him.

"Well come on, I know a place." He offers, starting down the sidewalk. Jessica pauses, hesitating. He could be working with or for Kilgrave. Keeping tabs on her. He seems to sense her hesitantion and stops walking. "There's a phone at the bar you can use. Free of charge." He adds, and Jessica sighs in defeat. She can't argue with a free phone and drinks. Working with Kilgrave or not, he wouldn't let someone harm her. At most, this is probably just some poor asshole keeping tabs on her.

It doesn't make her any less wary though.

"Fine." She huffs after a long pause, stuffing her hands into her pockets and following him.

\--

She calls Trish drunk off her ass, laughing and giggly. She's not exactly sure what she says, but she doesn't exactly care. She's pretty sure she gives her the address to the bar, but that's really it.

She drinks to forget. To hopefully ensure that she'll get a good night sleep tonight. Even though she shouldn't be drinking.

She tosses back another shot of bourbon, resting the glass on the counter with a flirty smile.

"So.... Y'u own this place?" She half slurs her words, eyeing up the large man behind the counter. Her eyes flick down to watch him clean off one glass before he speaks.

"Yea, I do." His voice is somewhat short, but Jessica doesn't mind as she leans her arms against the table.

"'nother round." Her eyes scan the empty room. She feels buzzed, very buzzed, and her mind is foggy and clouded. She's barely coherent, she knows, but she doesn't care. The man hesitates, his fingers ghosting a bottle.

"I should cut you off." He says, his voice holding a hint of warning. Jessica decides she likes his voice. It's deep and rumbling. Very different from Kilgrave's.

"Please." The word slips out before she can think of it. Just the mere thought of him being back almost sends her into a fit. Her heart pounds in her chest, and she opens her mouth to speak again, say something, but she almost slips off the bar stool and barely manages to catch herself.

"You've had enough." The man decides. Jessica feels angry; angry at this bartender who dare thinks he can cut her off. Angry at the world for fucking her over. Angry at herself for being so damn fucking weak. Maybe it's misplaced anger, but she doesn't care.

"No." She's not sure why she says it, but she does and her eyelids droop slightly. "'M fine. Can handle it." She slurs out. If bartender guy hears her, he says nothing and through her foggy vision and can see him wiping down the counter.

Jessica doesn't hear the door open, but the thing that draws her attention to the jingle is the bartender's deep baritone saying that they're closing up.

"Oh, no, we're just here to pick her up." She feels herself relax slowly at Trish's voice. Smooth and soft like honey.

"Trish..." She breathes out, slumping over the counter. She's tired, but she doesn't want to sleep. She doesn't want nightmares again. "Don't wanna go home." She adds breathlessly, her voice small. Maybe if she was sober she would care about how she appears to the hot bartender guy.

She's not though, so it doesn't matter.

Trish's arm brushes her back, and another pair of hands slip under her, hoisting her up. She manages to get her feet under her, but staggers seconds later, sagging against the second pair of hands she now knows is June.

"Thanks for watching her." Trish is saying to bartender guy. She really should get to know his name.

"No problem." Bartender guy smiles slightly, and Jessica releases a small hiccup before she speaks.

"Trish... Trish, what's 'is name?" She gestures with an awkward, sloppy movement that almost hits June in the face, towards bartender guy. She's not sure why she's asking Trish this question, but in her drunken mind it makes sense. Trish is smart, so if Trish is smart, then she should know his name. She hears bartender guy huff out a laugh.

"It's Luke, Luke Cage." Jessica tries to nod her head, but her head feels so _heavy_ that she can't. He seems to understand though, and grins slightly.

"There Chloe, you got his name, now we can go. You need to sleep it off. You shouldn't be drinking anyways." June chides her gently, and Jessica mumbles incoherently.

"June's right, come on." Trish pats her back slinging her other arm over her shoulder. Jessica can't find the words to protest, so she lets them half-carry half-lead her out. 

The cold air is relaxing against her skin, and together they start the slow process home. There aren't any taxis around unfortunately, but Jessica finds that she doesn't exactly mind. It's a quiet, little stumble home, cradled between two people she cares about.

It's peaceful and she can almost forget about this evening, but something in the back of her mind chews at thoughts. A simple statement proving that it wasn't some fucked up dream.

**_'They're safe, as long as you come with me.'_ **

She doesn't exactly realize they've made it inside until she's dumped onto her bed. The soft plush against her body is soothing, and she feels her shoes being slid off her feet. Jessica fumbles to pull off her jacket, and she feels Trish's hand gently help her.

"He's back..." She mumbles, her voice soft and almost breathless. She doesn't realize she says it, but she feels like she needs to tell Trish. She sees Trish pause, her eyes searching her face and Jessica blinks slowly. She falls back onto the bed, clutching the pillow to her chest and falling into a drunken sleep before Trish could reply.

\--

She wakes to the smell of bacon, a splitting headache, and the feeling that she needs to throw up.

She's lucky she manages to roll over and puke into the trash can with a low moan.

The light hurts her eyes and she rolls over to clutch the pillow again. Her mouth is watering from the smell, but she feels so tired, to tired to get up.

Until, of course, the previous evening, the reason why she is so fucking hungover, comes slamming back into her mind.

Jessica jerks awake, her eyes scanning the room, heart pounding in her chest, making her headache that much worst. She manages to stagger and drag herself out of bed, shuffling out of her room sleepily.

The smell of bacon is the only reason she's up, she decides. There's no need to mention Kilgrave. She just had an episode, lost her phone, and got drunk.

Perfectly sound cover story. Then she can start another new life by running, fleeing to Alaska, and living on a mountain away from humanity, away from Kilgrave. She can become an Inuit, live in an igloo, and eat fish.

Sound plan. Kilgrave would never find her. He wouldn't dare try.

She shuffles into the kitchen, the soft sizzling of bacon, some soft playing pop tune June has playing while she cooks, and pop of grease is the only thing that breaks the silence.

"Where's Trish?" Her voice comes out casual enough, she decides. She sees June jump as she grabs a bottle of asprin. She swallows two dry as she waits for June to speak, who looks startled to see her awake.

"She's in the shower." June manages to say, waving with a hand towards the direction of their shower. Jessica nods wordlessly, sliding into a seat at their breakfast bar.

Silence drifts between them, other than the sound of sizzling bacon, pop tunes, and the pop of grease bubbles. Jessica isn't sure what to say. June's never seen her that sort of state. June's seen her drunk, but not drunken drunk. She barely remembers last night other than Kilgrave and some bartender guy.

(Shame too, bartender guy was fun to hang with. From what she remembers.)

It's not long though, thankfully, until Trish steps into the kitchen, freshly showered and smelling of vanilla and coconut. Jessica doesn't say anything until Trish slides onto the stool beside her, nudging her lightly.

"What happened last night?" Trish's voice is a soft whisper, and Jessica avoids her gaze in favor for watching June cook while she thinks.

"Nothing. Got drunk, don't really remember." Jessica shrugs, finally settling on what to say. Trish gives her a _'cut-the-bullshit-Jess'_ look, but she pretends not to notice.

June serves them breakfast, and Jessica tries to act like nothing happened, that she's still Chloe, but she's forgotten who Chloe is.

After all, what's the point in hiding anymore if the one thing you're hiding from knows it's you?

She pokes at her eggs, listening to Trish and June talk half-heartedly. It's great that they've gotten along, and Jessica is glad for it. Trish always seemed to make friends easy, and the same with June.

She lets her mind wander, trying and failing to avoid dinner last night. Her stomach growls, and it takes her a moment to realize that she hadn't exactly eaten dinner last night.

It doesn't take long to finish breakfast, and before either other girl can stand up, Jessica is on her feet, ready to wash to the plates.

It's a shit avoidance tactic, but it works. For the most part.

So, elbows deep in soap, pans, and plates, she scrubs furiously. She tries not to scrub to hard and break the plate, and somehow manages to succeed in that. For now at least.

"What happened last night, Chloe?" June's voice startles her, and she spins around, hands dripping with soap and water.

"I don't remember." Jessica half-lies. Of course she lies. She's always lying, to June, to Trish. It makes her feel like a shit person, not that she's wrong. She is a piece of shit. She turns back to the sink, burying herself back into the plates and suds and water.

"Not even a tiny bit of what you did?" June's voice is curious, not accusing, but curious. Jessica grits her teeth, pressing harder against the plate in her hand. She's angry, not at June, but at herself. She's damn near furious with Kilgrave. Her fingers grip the cheap ceramic tightly, her knuckles tinted white from the force of her grip.

And, naturally the plate snaps; as it would when too much force is applied, causing her to jump slightly back. She, admittedly, doesn't know her own strength at times. A curse leaves her lips, foul and ugly as she reaches back in to pull out the two halfs of the-thankfully-cheap plate.

"Did... You, break that, Chloe?" June's voice is hesitant, her wide eyes glancing between her and the two halfs of the plate. Jessica knows she can't lie about this, so, instead, she mumbles an apology and ducks out of the kitchen, dropping the plate on the counter.

The door to her bedroom is shut and locked. She needs to be alone, she needs time to think, time to sort through her thoughts.

She's just fallen into the bed when three soft knocks flood through the room, and Jessica remains silent until they persist, and she sighs. Slowly dragging herself up, Jessica moves to twist the lock, unlocking the door with an audible click.

She's already seated on the bed, knees drawn up, when Trish steps in. Her face is pinched in concern, her lips pulling into a frown. Jessica shifts slightly, giving her room to sit.

"We need to talk." Trish finally breaks the silence after sitting down. Jessica tosses a glance at her, feeling defensive.

"About?" She prods, her voice guarded as she watches Trish from the corner of her eye.

"About what happened last night." Trish answers, and her tone is serious. "Jess, you-"

"I'd really rather not." Jessica cuts in but Trish continues anyway.

"-You said something last night, you said he's back." Trish's voice is careful, hesitant. Jessica feels her blood run cold, but she manages to shrug her shoulders.

"It was my PTSD. I thought I saw him, Kilgrave, I mean." She lies smoothly. She's gotten better at it, over the year she's spent with June, the constant lying. It's not something she's proud of. "It was just a normal delusion. I was drunk, people see things when they're drunk." She says it like it's normal for people to get delusions in the first place, and chuckles lowly to herself.

"Jess, this isn't funny. You've been distracted-"

"-I'm hungover, what do you expect-"

"-distant-"

"-Like I said, hungover-"

"-and your phone has vanished, plus you never answered any calls-"

"-So I lost it? It happens Trish." Jessica snips out, her voice short. Trish frowns at her, scrutinizing her intently. Jessica ducks her head, completely avoiding her gaze.

"I'm worried about you." Trish finally seems to settle on. Jessica laughs bitterly, leaning back so that she's laid out on the bed.

"Don't." She breathes out, rubbing her eyes. The throbbing in her temples has dulled, and she feels more awake than earlier.

"No, really, I am." Trish insists, and Jessica slides her gaze over to her. "Talk to me. You didn't just get _that_ drunk for the sake of it. I know you, Jess. Something happened."

"I'd rather not talk about it." Jessica deflects, her arms sprawled out on the bed. Trish eyes her quietly, and Jessica knows that Trish wants to say something.

"You know I'm here, right? If you ever need to talk?" Trish finally asks, her voice careful, hesitant. As if she's scared she'll say the wrong thing.

"Yea." Jessica whispers back, her eyes fixing on the ceiling. It's all she can think to say. "I guess this is just a bad week for me." She murmurs back. "I'm fine, Trish, some weeks are worst than others, I guess. This is just a bad week."

"You'd tell me, if something happened, right?" Trish shifts from where she sits, sliding down to lay flat on the bed beside her.

"Yes." The lie burns her throat, and she hates it. She hates lying, she hates lying to Trish expessically. "He's dead, Trish, the only way he can harm me is in my dreams." Her mouth tastes bitter at the lie, and this one is a sharp punch in the gut.

"I know that. I just worry about you. It's my job, because you can't do it yourself." Jessica half-smiles, a short chuckle erupting from her throat.

"Yea. I'm shit at that." She agrees with a wave of a hand. "Thanks Trish."

"No need to thank me. Just let me in sometimes. You don't have to protect me." Trish shakes her head, brushing her hand along Jessica's own. It's a feather-light touch, but it's comforting.

 _'Yea. I do.'_ She thinks distantly to herself, but doesn't dare say it out loud. _'From myself, and Kilgrave.'_

"I know." She whispers instead.

\--

It's only a few hours later that Trish manages to drag Jessica out of the apartment. Truthfully, she is grateful, but all she wants to do is lay in bed and try to sort through a plan of moving to Alaska without Trish becoming supisous.

Regardless, she settles for a night out on the town. They go shopping-much to Jessica's distress, but she throws up a look of excitement because _Chloe_ would love shopping-and after a nice dinner of sushi and seafood, before Jessica manages to convince Trish and June if they could visit the bar she was at last night. It takes some convincing, and a promise to watch what she drinks. Jessica tries to let herself relax, tries to being the operative word. Its difficult, because any one of these people could be a spy for Kilgrave.

Hell, Trish or June could be a spy for Kilgrave and not know. The thought makes her sick. The fact that he knew exactly who to threaten makes her sick.

The whole delima makes her sick.

Regardless, she has six more days to come to a desicion. Either go wherever the fuck Kilgrave wants to drag her off to, or watch her friends die.

Maybe she should tell Trish the truth.

Jessica shakes her head slightly, listening to June and Trish talk about something-she remembers the word ice cream, but she's not sure what else-until June pipes up with a question.

"Chloe, what kind of ice cream would you be?" The question stumps her, and she falters with a glance at Trish, who shrugs her shoulders.

"I don't know. Why does it matter?" She asks with a furrow of her brow. She pauses for a moment, think, and she adjusts her weight on the stool as she comes up with an answer. "Mint. I guess." She decides finally.

"I would have thought you'd be a whiskey infused one." Trish grins slightly, and Jessica shoves her lightly-well, she manages to do that.

"Haha. Very funny, Trish." She bites in a good-humored way. Trish smiles with a small chuckle.

So, they share stories, Jessica tells more bar lies to get them all free shots-Trish did not help with that, no, of course not-and June protests adamantly to it, before Jessica nearly forces the the shot down her throat.

"Lightweight." She scoffs, her tone teasing as she waves for another shot.

"Alcoholic." June teases with a faint slur-because holy fuck, June is a lightweight-and Jessica scoffs a half chuckle with a slight upturn of her lips.

"Not denying it." She tosses back another shot and moves to stand, ignoring Trish's protests.

"Chloe, no-"

"One more round, Trish! Promise, last one." Jessica calls over her shoulder, cutting her off as she steps up to the bar.

"It's on the house." Jessica jolts slightly, her eyes following the hand holding out three shot glasses to her, before landing on Luke's face.

"Oh? Thinking you might get lucky?" He only smiles slightly, a half grin that sparks his eyes for a moment.

"Maybe. Depends on whether you plan to get shit-faced drunk in my bar again." His tone is light, and Jessica manages to shake her head, blocking out what she does remember from last night. Why she got shit-faced drunk.

"Well if you keep giving me free shots, who am I to argue?" A wry smile curls at her lips, though a very tiny one, and she takes the shot glasses from his hand.

"Are you flirting with me?" Luke leans forward, elbows resting on the bar top, dish rag slung over his shoulder. Though Jessica wouldn't dare admit it put loud, it's pretty hot.

"I don't flirt. Just say what I want." She shot back without hesitation. She shouldn't, not really, she shouldn't be flirting with him. Kilgrave was out there, probably watching her or keeping tabs on her, and one more person for him to dangle over her head wasn't what she needed right now.

So, before he can reply that-ask her back to his place after his shift, or whatever he wants to do-she turns and heads back to where June and Trish were sitting.

"Last round, then we're going home." Trish says before Jessica can speak. She just nods, tossing back the last shot of the night.

\--

It hadn't occurred to her that she hadn't had any night terrors the night before. She'd been to hungover to notice until now. Now only slightly buzzed and standing in the middle of her darkened living room, she's terrified.

So, much like the first night and several weeks after she had first escaped Kilgrave, she checks every nook and cranny of the apartment. It's not that she wants too, but she needs too. She needs to convince herself that he's not here tonight.

She also needs to think. She needs to actually try to figure out what she's going do. Honestly, she doesn't have much of an idea. Not a clue on the long term effects taking Kilgrave's deal would lead too.

The only thing she knows is that he can't control her, and that Trish and June would presumably be safe.

Presumably being the operative word. She can't trust him, or his word. She doesn't trust him, she never will.

Not that she was considering taking the offer. She still just wants to forget that last night happened, and move to the mountains in Alaska where Kilgrave wouldn't follow.

Or, she suspects he wouldn't. Jessica honestly isn't sure anymore.

So, she paces the living room for what feels like the millionth time that night, poking at the shadows behind the curtains, under the couch, and even in the trash can, trying to be quiet so not to wake anyone.

It's clear, quiet, and no one is hiding out in the shadows ready to stab Trish or June. This, however, does very little to relax her, and she does one more check behind the curtains, peering through the windows to check the apartments across from hers before sighing and rubbing her eyes.

She finally let's herself retreat back to her bedroom, where Trish is curled up in bed. They were still sharing a bed, maybe for a few days now. Jessica doesn't mind, nothing they hadn't done before when they were younger.

Some part of her wishes that Trish would leave, so she could just get away from the concerned looks. She could continue to be Chloe, and have June not be any wiser. Not that June was stupid, but June didn't know her. June didn't know the shit Jessica did. Granted, Trish didn't know everything either.

She wishes Trish could just forget about her. Leave her forever to lay in her own pile of pity, shit, and self-loathing.

Trish wouldn't do that though. Jessica knows this, yet some small part of her hopes she would. Then again, maybe it's better, maybe it's better to have Trish beside her, where she can ultimately keep an eye on her.

Six days left until she needs to come to a desicion, and Jessica isn't sure she can.


	2. Monday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, after thinking about it, I've decided to shorten this fic, due to the fear of it becoming too repetitive.So, next chapter will be the last one, spanning the rest of the week, as I think it would get repetitive to have a chapter span a day each. So, one more chapter in this one and then the next installment of this.
> 
> This chapter, for some reason, was difficult for me to sort through and write, but I got through, and some parts I'm still not exactly proud of, but I love how it ended.
> 
> Anyways, next chapter will be up in the next few days, but definitely by this weekend.

Trish makes the announcement that she's leaving tomorrow, early Monday morning and not long after Jessica drags herself out of bed and sits at the breakfast bar. June is understandably crushed, but almost immediately starts talking about what they can do next time she comes down. Jessica is terrified, and she realizes that next time Trish comes down, she'll either be with Kilgrave-she almost throws up at the thought-or they'll both be dead, and she'll be with Kilgrave.

If she thinks about it that way, the decision is easy.

But that's simplifying it, and it's not that black and white.

When is it ever that black and white though?

"Chloe? You okay?" Trish's voice snaps her from her thoughts, and she turns with a forced smile.

"I'm fine, Trish. Really." She breathes. She leans against the counter. "Just tired I guess. When will you come back down?"

"Probably sometime next week, maybe." Trish answers, her eyes flicking over her face. "Will you be okay? You'll call me, right?"

"Of course." Jessica forces a smile, but it's another lie that just piles up on her mountain of lies. Except they both know that this is a lie.

There's a brief lapse in silence before June rushes out, dressed and ready for work.

"Right, I got this. Today is going to be a great day." June smiles widely, and Jessica feels fucking envious over her roommate's bright, and sunny personality.

"Yea, knock them dead, June!" Jessica agrees with what feels like a forced smile. It convinces June though, and she can see Trish grin with a thumbs up to the girl.

"Do you want me to drive you?" She offers, moving to stand up. "I mean, we're-" Trish gestures towards her, and Jessica blinks as the blonde continues. "-Going out anyways. You won't have to take a bus. Or pay for a taxi."

"We're going out?" Jessica's head snaps up, her voice surprised, confused, but she's silenced by a sharp look from Trish.

"Okay." June agrees with a sunny smile, and Trish smiles back, leaving Jessica with no choice but to follow the two blondes out.

\--

They drop June off at work, and Trish is apparently bound and determined to give Jessica a last good day out together.

Jessica finds that she doesn't mind, and against her better judgment, she decides to forget completely about Kilgrave, his fucking, bullshit offer, and what she's going do to.

It might not be the best option, but she can lock herself in her room and try to list every possible outcome, the pros and cons, and the likes tomorrow.

They stop at a small diner for breakfast that Jessica is ninety-nine percent sure doesn't serve alcohol this early, and are quickly seated in a booth and say their orders.

(They don't serve alcohol this early, Jessica asked, ignoring a look from Trish.)

"You really should go back to AA." Trish says quietly as Jessica glares into her coffee.

"And circle-jerk with a bunch of whiners?" She shoots back with a sharp look. "I'm good on my own, Trish."

"I know, Jess." Trish sighs, shaking her head before taking a sip of her coffee. "After Saturday night, I almost don't want to leave. You're becoming self-destructive."

"I was always self-destructive, Trish. Nothing new." Jessica scoffs slightly into her coffee, taking a sip. Trish shakes her head again, but doesn't comment for a long time.

"So, I saw you chatting up the bartender last night." The statement catches her off guard, and Jessica chokes on a mouthful of coffee, coughing sharply.

"Fuck, Trish! I was not chatting him up!" Jessica protests, because that was _not_ what she was doing. Trish raises a disbelieving eyebrow, not looking convinced. Jessica groans slightly, leaning back length wise on the booth.

"You were, I saw you Jess. I approve, if your looking for approval. It's been a while since you dated anyone." Trish barely manages to hide a smile, and Jessica scowls just slightly.

"Thanks mom, I'm glad you approve." Jessica snarks, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

"Jess, seriously, I'm glad you're actually trying to move on from him. He's gone, and you deserve to be happy." The words are a sharp punch in the gut. They leave her breathless, and guilt claws at her throat, the words that she wants to say; _'you're wrong. He's back. He wants me to go with him. He threatened you.'_ are on the very tip of her tounge.

She doesn't dare speak them though, and instead takes another sip of her coffee. "Yea, maybe your right." She admits quietly, and it's probably the last thing she should say. She sees Trish smile, and Jessica feels her blood run cold. "Trish, no-"

"No, I'm not taking no for answer, Jess. You're going to talk to him. Ask him out."

"I'd rather not." She deadpans, her eyes sliding down to her mug of coffee. "He probably only works nights anyways." She tries feebly to argue, to get out of the hole she's dug herself in.

"Then we'll wait until night time."

"You have to pack!" Jessica tries again, but Trish isn't listening.

"I don't have much. Jess, it won't be that bad. Just do what you normally do." She urges gently, Trish's eyes searching hers. Jessica slouches in the booth, not answering.

Fuck, this is a shitty day already.

\--

Breakfast goes okay other than that, and afterwards, they stop at the store to pick up some groceries.

Jessica hates grocery shopping. It's right up there with _'jogging'_ and _'talking about her feelings.'_

Regardless, she sucks it up, and follows Trish through the various aisles.

It's so fucking domestic it hurts. June was the one who went grocery shopping, not her. She just bought what she needed when she needed. And half the time it was a bottle of Jack from the corner store.

So, in other words, she sucks at this.

Regardless, she half listens to Trish, but also allows her mind to wander. She reluctantly lets her mind turn to Kilgrave's offer, turning over the conversation in her head, trying to figure out what exactly he wants.

It's obvious; he wants her.

The thought sends a chill down her spine, causing a shutter to run through her body that doesn't go unoticed by Trish.

"You okay?" Jessica blinks and manages a slight scowl.

"Would you stop asking that?" Jessica shifts, grabbing a items effortlessly and setting them down on the conveyor belt. "You're starting to sound like a broken record."

"I can't help it. You've been acting strange since Saturday night." Trish replies in that gentle tone that makes Jessica want to scream. She's not sure how to reply to that, and decidedly focuses on putting things on the belt while Trish scans them. It's not a lot, just enough to get them through the week probably.

Next week, of course, is another matter entirely.

Trish pays-despite Jessica's protests that she'll pay for it, Trish makes the convincing argument that it is her money anyways.

She can't exactly argue with that.

They head back to the apartment, and quickly start to busy themselves with putting the freezer items away. It's doesn't take long, and Jessica collapses on the couch and starts flipping through the channels on the tv.

Trish makes popcorn and Jessica manages to find a movie that's not complete bullshit, and they spend the rest of the day watching it until they leave to go pick up June and get a bite to eat.

"What about Chinese?" Trish suggests as they sit in the car trying to decide. Jessica feels her pulse pick up in her throat, but she shrugs her shoulders.

"Oo, sure! Can we go to the place you went to on Saturday, Chloe?" The question catches her off guard, and she falters for a second. Saying _'no'_ would seem odd, saying _'I don't care'_ would end up with them going there anyways.

She settles with a _'sure.'_ The odds of Kilgrave being there were slim, so she assumes. He can get anything he wants, so why go to the same place twice?

Then again, Jessica should know that the universe loves to fuck her over, so she braces herself for the worst.

They step into the resturant, June and Trish are talking about how June's day went. June apparently got a promotion, and some small, tiny part of her wonders if Kilgrave had anything to do with that.

Regardless, she tries to tell herself that it doesn't matter, that she should be proud of June; and she is. They'd just been seated, and are discussing what to order when a waiter walks up, a smile on his face, carrying a bottle of wine, and not the cheap stuff, along with three glasses.

"We didn't order this." June pipes up, her hand waving to the glasses as the man pours them each a glass.

"It's on the house, a nice gentleman in the back is paying for it." The waiter explains, and Jessica feels sick.

She knows who it is, and she eyes the bottle of wine as Trish speaks up with a polite smile.

"Well, tell him thank you for us." She says, taking a sip of the wine. In a split second decision, she catches the waiter's attention before he can leave.

"Ah, can you tell me where he's sitting; I'd like to thank him in person." She explains, throwing up a fake smile the can be mistaken for politeness. She ignores the surprised look she gets from June, and the curious but supisous look from Trish.

The waiter is almost all to happy to oblige, telling her exactly what table he's at. She smiles with a nod for him to go.

"What was all that about?" Trish asks after a pause, her eyes curious as she peers over the glass she had raised to her lips. Jessica shrugs, grabbing the wine glass and taking a sip.

It's really fucking stupid how she can confirm its him just by the taste of the wine. Kilgrave always loved red wine, particularly the Sangiovese brand.

Which, of course, is exactly what this brand is. She remembers the taste, sharp plum and berries.

While she isn't a big fan of wine, preferring the much stronger and harder liquors like whiskey, she must reluctantly admit he has good but expensive taste.

In the back of her head, something tells her to make an excuse. Make an excuse to go check and see if its really him. She could just be paranoid, like usual.

She doesn't though, and instead they order their food when the waiter comes back, and Jessica listens intently to Trish talk about her next idea for Trish Talk.

It's become a rather conversation for June and Trish, the former being very into Trish's Talk Show, expessically after learning that Jessica was best friends with Trish herself.

It's pretty cute, actually. Not that Jessica would admit it.

So, as they wait for their food to come, Jessica absently sips at the wine, her eyes scanning the room.

She's on edge, tense and stiff, coiled like a spring wound to tightly. Trish notices this, of course she does, and Trish somehow manages to drag her into the conversation about celebrity news. Jessica hates the topic, Trish knows this, and she also knows that Trish did that to get her relaxed and willing to rant.

Their food comes, along with another bottle of wine, that same bottle, and Jessica debates getting up again, but she's feeling buzzed now from the glasses she's already had, and confronting Kilgrave drunk doesn't seem like a great idea.

They finish their meals, pay, and start heading out when Trish suggests they go back to Luke's bar.

Jessica tries to protest, but gives in after a a few choice words from Trish.

So, that's what lead her to sitting at the bar while June and Trish hung back, chatting about fuck knows what. Jessica knows what Trish is doing, and it's not going to work. She can't, she just can't, because that's one more person Kilgrave can hang over her head.

Damn her weakness, damn Luke Cage and is fucking flirty personality.

Damn her for allowing herself to go along with it.

She promises Trish that she'll be back before she leaves, and her two friends leave not long after that.

Good, now she can sneak away when Luke turns his back, and hang out somewhere for a few hours. Where, she doesn't know, but she'll figure it out.

She doesn't, and instead she stays. She stays until they close, and Luke offers to take her back to his place with a slight bite of his lip and a suggested glint in his eyes. It's a playful look though, not demanding, not flirty, but straight and clear to the point.

Jessica appreciates that, but she can't.

"I can't." She declines with a slight shake of her head, and he leans against the bar.

"Married? Got someone already?" He guesses with a tilt of his head. His deep voice echos through the empty bar, and Jessica smiles ruefully.

"No. Just got out of actually. Not ready too..." She trails off and gestures awkwardly with a hand. She's only half lying at this point, which is better than actually lying. He nods in understanding.

"Yea, I know the feeling." His voice is equally as rueful, but infinitely sadder tone of voice. Jessica wonders what happened, but she doesn't ask. "Let me walk you home at least." He offers. "Pretty girl like you shouldn't be out in the streets this late at night." Jessica has to laugh, dispersing the somber tone that had settled over them.

"I think I can handle any creeps who try to do something." She shoots back as she slides off the stool, following him out into the night.

"Oh can you? Small thing like you?" Luke arches an eyebrow in disbelief, and Jessica bites her lip slightly, fighting an _'I-know-something-you-don't'_ kind of grin.

"Yes, I can." She declares with the utmost confidence. Luke still seems doubtful, but there's a spark of curiousity in his dark eyes.

They continue down the sidewalk, Jessica's hands shoved into her pockets, walking beside the hulking figure of Luke Cage. She feels protected by this man, but she doesn't know why. She can protect herself, as she so bluntly stated, but she feels like she can let her walls down some around him.

"So, Chloe was it?" He asks abruptly, starting her out of her thoughts as they turn the corner. They have maybe a block to go, and Jessica debates correcting him.

After all, what's the point in hiding anymore?

"Uh, Jessica, actually. Jessica Jones." She says in a slight hesitant tone. His eyes dart over to her, studying her quietly. "Chloe is, just a name I go by sometimes." She lies dumbly, and a grimace crosses his face, his lips pulling back.

"Is that so?" His tone is distant now, and Jessica knows she fucked up. She fucked this up royally, and there's no going back.

Maybe it's for the best.

"Yes. It's a long story." She says swiftly, trying to put confidence in her tone. He still looks hesitant, and they stop outside her apartment building, standing in the middle of the sidewalk.

"When can I see you again, Jones?" He asks after a long pause. Jessica jolts slightly, and is unable to hide her surprise. "Look, I know all about hiding from things. I won't pry," his eyes flick over her for a moment. "I'm in no place to judge you. Hell, we all have our demons."

"Some more than others." Jessica laughs, and it's the closest she's ever gotten to admitting her demons. Maybe she's making a mistake, in fact she knows she is, but she doesn't care. Luke's lips pull upward in a slight smile of agreement, and he shoves his hands in his pockets.

"See you tomorrow, Jones." He says knowingly, walking off. Jessica blinks, watching him walk off with a faint look of annoyance.

"Yea, sure. Whatever, maybe I'll show up." She calls back to him, not about to give him the satisfaction of having guessing right.

What the hell has she gotten herself into?


	3. Tuesday-Saturday

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, final chapter of this installment, I'm not sure when the next installment will be up, but expect it come out sometime this week.

She wakes up with Reva's face in front of her own, her hands stained with her blood. Horror gripping her stomach and twisting it tight; she feels like she is going to throw up. Her hand cups her mouth, bile raises in her throat. She feels sick to her stomach.

She doesn't dare move, her eyes flicking over to look at Trish, who mercifully did not wake. Jessica stares at her for a second, listening to her sift breaths. She carefully sits up, trying not to wake Trish, climbing out of the bed on shaky legs.

Pre-dawn light flutters through her window, making it just bright enough to see, but not bright enough to blind her. Once she's sure her legs are under her, and she won't collapse, she fumbles to the kitchen, finding June already awake but still in her pajamas, sipping on a cup of coffee.

"Morning Chloe. I didn't think you'd be up this early." Jessica just grunts slightly in reply. It is early, but she doesn't expect to be going back to bed any time soon.

So, she fumbles with a bottle of vodka, taking a swig of it and crossing the way to sit beside June.

"Shouldn't you be at work?" Jessica arches an eyebrow towards her roommate, who is way to peppy this morning for Jessica to cope with.

June shrugs. "I don't have work until 9." She explains, taking a sip of her coffee. "How'd it go last night?"

"How'd what go?"

"Last night, with the bartender."

"Why are you asking?"

"Just curious."

Jessica remains silent after that statement, busying herself with taking another swig of vodka.

"So, how'd it go?" June asks again, and Jessica scowls with a sharp look.

"We had sex, it was fling, June. Nothing more." Jessica lies finally, slouching her shoulders slightly. She hopes it would get June off her back at least, but she knows that Trish will give her the first degree when she wakes up.

June leaves it at that though, and Jessica is grateful for it. They sit in somewhat comfortable silence, until June needs to go shower. Jessica just nods, listening to the whisper of cloth as her blonde roommate stands to do so.

Only a few mintues after that, Trish shuffles out of her bedroom, looking mutely surprised.

"You're up early." She notes, her eyes flicking down to the bottle of vodka with a press of her lips.

"Yeah, no shit." Jessica snarks and Trish grabs a cup of coffee before walking over to sit down. She curls up against the edge of the couch, tucking her legs under her, before watching her for a few seconds.

"Sleep well?"

"Okay I guess."

"Any nightmares?"

"Like I'd tell you if I had any." It's the hard truth for once, but it's one thing they both know. Trish twitches her lips in a rueful smile, but she doesn't say anything for a few moments. "And I'm fine, before you ask. I'll be fine, I'll see you next week." Jessica cuts in before Trish can say anything.

"Right. Next week." Trish confirms and Jessica feels nauseous at the reminder. She tosses back a swig of vodka, trying to quell the feeling at the reminder.

The rest of the morning is paired with comfortable silence, and just a tinge of unease. June leaves for work after a heartfelt goodbye to Trish and forcing Jessica to promise to be home for dinner tonight.

(They both know she won't. Jessica's shit at promises, which is why she doesn't make them.)

Jessica helps Trish pack, which is done through small conversation and the words _'I won't be here when you come back. Probably. It's that or you're dead.'_ hanging over her head. She doesn't say them out loud of course. 

After dumping Trish's bags into the back of her car, she's wrapped in a tight hug. Jessica relishes in the feeling, her throat closing up with emotion for a few seconds. She loosely drapes her arms around Trish, breathing in that scent of vanilla and coconut.

"Be safe, alright?" Jessica manages to get out once they've separated. Trish smiles, her eyes lighting with hurmor.

"I should be telling you that." She jokes, and Jessica shakes her head.

"I'm always safe. It's my middle name." She grins slightly, but it all feels forced and unnatural to her.

"Jessica 'safe' Jones?" Trish giggles slightly, her tone hushed as if sharing a secret. Jessica smiles genuinely this time, joining in for a brief moment.

"So, next week, right?" Jessica breathes out after the moment passes. Trish nods slightly, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear.

"Right. I'll call you when I leave." She confirms. Jessica nods back, and these a brief lapse in silence. "And, don't hesitate to call me, if you need anything, right?" Another nod, but this one is a lie. They both know it, Jessica is shit at staying in contact.

Trish gently touches her arm, offering a smile before ducking into her car. Jessica takes a small step back, sliding her hands into her pockets as Trish drives off.

Now, to think through what she's exactly going to do.

\--

She does visit Luke's bar Tuesday night, slumping over the counter as he steps over to her. A smile curls his lips, a knowing glint in his eyes as he wordlessly passes her a glass of whiskey.

"Have you ever had to make a tough decision?" The question slips from her lips after a round or two of shots. Just enough buzz to make her lips slightly loose. Luke glances up at her, cleaning off a glass as he considers her question.

"Sure. We all have at some point, Jones." He says smoothly. Jessica frowns, eyeing him slightly as he brushes her thumb along the rim of the glass, wiping the condensation off.

"What if this, decision, could kill someone if you went with one option, but the other one repulses you so much that you're considering it?" She asks sagely. She can see his eyes narrow in confusion, his dark gaze flicking over her face.

"You're drunk, Jones."

"Takes more than two shots to get me drunk, now answer the damn question." She grunts back, her eyes flicking up to him. Luke shifts slightly, tensing his shoulders, his posture straightening minimally.

"I think I'd go for the lesser of the two. The one that repulses me. Better that than having people killed." He answers, tossing a rag over his shoulder, leaning forward slightly against the counter. "Where's this all coming from anyway?" His eyes flick over her face again, clearly trying to read her. Jessica shrugs her shoulders.

"Just thinking." She brushes off and Luke seems doubtful. Jessica can't blame him, but telling him would be worst than having him supisious. 

"I'm going to head home. Haven't been sleeping well." She abruptly stands, pushing off the stool and polishing off another shot with a grimace. She turns, about to head out.

"Wait, Jones." Jessica turns slightly to face Luke, and he crosses to the other side of the counter, thrusting out a slip of paper. "Call me, if you ever need something. Someone to talk to."

"Real smooth, I'm _so_ turned on." She deadpans, and Luke flashes her a grin before she swipes the paper from him. She stuffs it carelessly into her pocket, calling out a quick bye before stepping outside and starting home.

\--

Wednesday is spent packing a bag while June is at work, not that she's sure what exactly she's packing for, so she just throws her clothes into a duffle and kicks it into her closet to be ignored until she comes to a desicion.

She leaves before June gets off, having the heart to leave a note saying that she probably wouldn't be back until later tonight or tomorrow morning.

"Come up with that desicion yet, Jones?" Luke asks over a bottle of whiskey and some cheap food stand crap that tastes like cardboard. Jessica shakes her head slightly.

"Not yet." She admits, pushing a fry into her mouth. Luke shakes his head slightly.

"When's this decision have to be made?" He asks, humoring her thoughts. Jessica swallows her fry, leaning forward to steal one of his with a smirk.

"Saturday." She answers finally, and Luke makes a small grimace with his mouth, expressing his sympathy.

"What are you thinking, Jones." He asks, his voice low and curious.

"I'm thinking of taking it." She admits quietly, looking down. "I mean, I don't need anymore shit piling up on my life. I'd rather suffer, than have other people suffer because of my shit mistake." She reflects, waving her hand. She glances up finally, studying his reaction.

She shouldn't care what he thinks, she really shouldn't. They've only known each other for maybe three days. But she does. She cares more than she'll ever admit.

What has become of her? She blames it on stress, Kilgrave, and all that shit.

Luke finally makes a small sound of agreement, sipping on his whiskey. "Just be careful, Jones." Is the only thing he says. Jessica quirks her lips in a half smile.

"Scared of losing your drinking buddy?" She quips, and he grins slightly.

"Damn straight." He agrees, and Jessica laughs slightly. They quiet down, and Luke flicks his eyes over her quietly. Jessica shifts slightly, not sure what to say until Luke speaks up again.

"Want to come back to my place?" The question makes her start. The suddenness of it catching her off guard. Jessica pauses, considering her options carefully. She shouldn't, she really shouldn't.

"Sure." She answers against her better judgment, a slow smile curling at her lips.

\--

Thursday is different, and it starts like shit. She wakes up cradled against Luke's side, and she allows herself a brief moment of hospice before climbing out, shrugging on her jeans and t-shirt before ducking into the bathroom.

Jessica is not a nosy person by nature-okay, she's nosy as fuck. Sometimes she wishes she wasn't, but she's paranoid. She's never let anyone get this close to her since Kilgrave.

With him back, it only makes it worst.

So, she washes her face in the sink before pulling open the medicine cabinet in hopes of finding a toothbrush. Her fingers skim the various articles of medicine and toothpaste, absently reading the labels.

She picks up a bottle of asprin, her eyes focusing on the label until she goes to set it down.

Fuck.

Oh fuck no.

Her lips press together tightly, and she sucks in a breath through her nose as the picture of Reva Connors blurs in her vision. She blinks furiously, trying in vain to stop the tears.

This is so fucked up. A huge fucking mistake. Of fucking course.

Her life just gets better and better doesn't it?

She presses the cabinet door shut, finding her face red and her eyes already puffy. Fucking hell, she looks like shit, and she feels like it too.

She's a fucking piece of shit.

She rubs her eyes, drying her tears quickly. Her eyes sting, and she shutters slightly as she splashes her face with icy water, hoping to rid the evidence of her almost-but-not-quite mental breakdown.

She exhales, straightening up with the resolve to leave. She has too. She can't be here.

So, she slides out of the bathroom, and whispers a sigh of relief that Luke is still asleep, and she runs.

Of course she runs. She runs from confrontation, from drama.

She runs from the one person besides Trish that she's grown to trust. Not that it matters.

None of it matters anyways.

She's made her decision.

\--

She barely makes it back to her apartment, and immediately retreats to the bathroom, barely making it there before she throws up.

She moans slightly, shutting her eyes tightly and cupping a hand over her mouth. She should call Trish, not to tell her what happened, but to relax.

She doesn't, and she leans her head down on the edge of the toilet instead, shutting her eyes.

She only raises her head when June knocks on the door.

"Chloe? You okay?" June's concerned and Jessica manages to answer.

"Yeah June, too much to drink I guess." She breathes, pushing herself up and shuffling over to the door with a fake smile. "Don't you have work?" She asks, avoiding any sort of question.

"Well, yes, I was just about to leave." She answers hesitantly, seeming to study her. Jessica glances away with a nod. "You okay?"

"I'm fine, June. Christ you worry too much." She mutters, brushing passed her roommate. "You're going to be late if you don't leave now!" She adds over her shoulder, disappearing into her room.

\--

She stays in her room, just thinking, despite having her apartment to herself; she can't find the energy to get out of bed really.

Her phone buzzes to life, and Jessica grunts slightly as she checks her messages.

**Luke-Sent at 10:18:** _You left early._

She stares at it for a while, before hesitantly tapping out a reply.

**Jessica-Sent at 10:20:** _Something came up._

**Luke-Sent at 10:22:** _Everything okay?_

Jessica scoffs slightly, a harsh laugh in her throat. Damn it, she's an asshole.

 **Jessica-Sent at 10:28:** _Yeah. Fine._

She tosses her phone onto the bedside table, sighing before she turns over in an attempt to try to sleep.

\--

She wakes up slowly, her room dark and cold. A quick glance at the clock would tell her it was around 7, but she doesn't care what time it is.

She manages to crawl out of bed, shuffling her way out of her bedroom and making a beeline to the kitchen.

"I didn't know you were still home. You're normally already out drinking." Jessica jumps at the sound of June's voice, whirling around sharply with a sharp breath.

"Christ, June! You scared the shit out of me!" She snaps on instinct, turning back to yank a bottle of whiskey from the cabinet.

"Sorry. But, why _are_ you still here?" June asks, her voice skeptical.

"Didn't feel like going out." She regrets saying it, because it's such an un-Chloe like thing to say.

"Okay now I know something's wrong." It's an invite to speak, but Jessica sure as hell isn't going to share her feelings with June of all people.

"I'm fine, June. For fucks sake." She breathes out, running her fingers through her hair.

"Okay, okay. Sorry Chloe. It's just, we're friends, and I'm worried about you."

"Well fucking don't be. I can take care of myself." She mutters out, taking a swig of her drink. Her voice isn't as heated, but her annoyance is clear.

"I know, Chloe. Sorry. Have you eaten?" June asks, and the question makes her realize that she hasn't eaten since yesterday.

"No." She answers truthfully, walking over to sit beside her. 

"Want to order pizza? We can throw on a movie and have a girls night." June offers, a bit of excitement that she can't hide bleeding into her tone. Jessica pauses, thinking it over.

"Sure, June." Jessica breathes, a small smile pulling at her lips.

They spend the rest of evening watching movies, June throws on a few Dawson's Creek reruns, and Jessica makes fun of James' acting.

It's good fun, they're both somewhat tipsy, and June adamantly tries to defend James' honor over his acting prowless.

It gets late, and June heads off to bed, leaving Jessica to sober up.

Her phone buzzes, Jessica doesn't answer. She knows who it is.

Instead, she stands up, stumbles to her bedroom, and pulls out the duffle bag full of clothes and other items. She stares at the inside, double and triple checking everything before she zips it up.

One more day of freedom.

\--

Friday is boring, she does nothing except drink, watch shit television, and ignore her phone.

She doesn't sleep Friday night, and instead she paces her living room, cradling a bottle and feeling buzzed. Her mind is rattled, and she can't think as clear as she wanted.

(And no, it wasn't the alcohol, damn it.)

Saturday morning she's exhausted, and dreading tonight. She has two missed texts from Luke, neither of which she plans to reply too.

God she's such an asshole.

Regardless, she slings her bag over her shoulder early Saturday morning, before June wakes up. She scrawls a quick note saying that she's going on vacation that James paid for, and won't be back until later.

It's a fucking horrible excuse. She knows that.

So, she walks for most of the day, dressed in leather and ripped jeans, her hood pulled up just in case June is out.

She doesn't know why exactly she's hiding, but she is.

Maybe it's to make this easier, not that it's an easy choice.

Her feet eventually lead her to Luke's bar, and she lingers outside for a long time, eyeing the signs. She wraps her arms around herselc, swallowing thickly.

She has to at least do this before she goes. If nothing else. Apologize for fucking his life up. For leading him on. For everything.

With a resigned sigh, she pushes her way inside, the little bell jingling to symbolize her entrance. It makes Luke look up, his face a mix of confusion and anger. She can't blame him. She'd be angry at herself in this position too.

"Hey." She says lamely, shifting and shoving her hands into her pockets. Luke slaps the rag down on the counter, crossing over the bar with his arms folded over his chest.

"What the hell, Jones?" He demands in a sharp tone. Jessica looks down slightly, shame burning in her gut. "I don't hear from you for two days, you left without speaking to me, and don't give me that _'something came up'_ shit.'"

"I know. I know, Christ. I'm sorry. I'm an asshole." She mutters, her lips pulling into a grimace. "I just... I've been stressed, with today and..." Luke seems understanding, and he nods slightly. 

She doesn't deserve this kindness, fuck.

"I understand, but I want to help, Jones. I can't do that if you shut me out." He says, leaning back slightly against the counter. Jessica just nods slightly.

"I just, came to apologize." At his confusing look, she continues. "For everything. Leading you on-"

"You didn't lead me on."

"-Avoiding you-"

"I'm not mad, Jones."

Jessica stops, her eyes snapping up to meet his. She's surprised, of course she is. She thought he'd be furious. 

His hand moves slightly, gently touching her wrist. "Really, I'm not." He says gently, and Jessica just nods. She pulls back from him, tucking her hands into her pockets.

"I should go. Don't want to be late." She excuses quickly, not looking at him. "I'm sorry, bye Luke." She turns sharply, rushing out before can stop her.

She still feels like shit, even more so despite apologizing. Not that she expected it to fix anything. She pulls out her phone, hiking her bag higher up on her shoulder, staring at the time.

Might as well get this over with.

\--

She puts on a brave face when she walks in, moving with confidence she doesn't feel. The air smells like Chinese food and expensive cologne, and she feels sick. Her eyes scan the not-so-empty resturant, her stomach clenching at the thought, the reason why it's probably not abandoned like last time.

Well, she'll just have to be careful this time.

Jessica sighs, following the host to the back of the room. She sees him before he sees her, his nose buried in the wine selection. He only glances up when she tosses her duffle into the booth and slides into it after the bag.

"I'm here." She announces plainly. Kilgrave smiles slightly, handing the menu to the waiter with a half-minded order to pick out the best wine.

"So you are." He says once the man leaves. Kilgrave clasps his hands together in front of him, leaning his arms against the table. "I was beginning to think you forgot. Would have ended badly for the restaurant, and several others." He says offhandedly, glancing around. "Look at them, happy and none-the-wiser." He smiles, and the waiter pours them each a glass.

"I'll go with you." She cuts into his tangent, and he looks almost surprised.

"Will you now? No fussing, no... Trying to kill me?" He says, his tone hesitant, wary. Jessica glares at him slightly. She's exhausted, and she just wants to get this over with.

"Yes. Of my own free will. Not that you can do anything about that." Jessica answers stiffly. She's tense, her arms folding over her chest. Kilgrave smiles a happy grin, leaning back slowly, mirroring her posture, if looking more relaxed. He nods, seeming happy with her decision.

(Of fucking course he is. Why wouldn't he be?)

The waiter brings out their food, chicken and rice, with a side of Lo-mein. They eat in tense silence, at least, it's tense for Jessica.

"Where are you taking me?" She asks once she finishes. Kilgrave glances up, his left eyebrow raised as he studies her.

"I'm taking you home, Jessica." He answers with a warm note in his voice as he waves his hand slightly. Jessica freezes slightly, her fingers twitching around her chopsticks she has yet to set down.

" _What_?" She stares at him, and Kilgrave shifts, waving his hands.

"You'll see. It's a surprise." Kilgrave grins, looking almost excited. Jessica isn't sure if she should be worried or not.

She still is worried, maybe a touch terrified.

"Are you finished?" He asks, and Jessica wants to say no, just to spite him, but she doesn't. The sooner she gets through with this, the better.

"Yeah. Sure, whatever." She nutters, standing abruptly, shouldering her duffle. Kilgrave follows her up, his hand moving to touch the small of her back as they start to the door. She flinches, jerking back and slapping his hand away.

"Don't touch me."

"Jessica-"

"I said don't. If I go with you, you don't touch me, ever." She snaps, and Kilgrave pauses, before sighing with a slight nod in compliance.

"Right." He nods, waving his hands, as if to show her he won't, before slipping them into his pockets. "I won't touch you, until I get your genuine consent."

Jessica pauses, her eyes scanning his face. She can't trust him, she doesn't trust him, but he seems genuine. At least for now.

At least until he gets frustrated.

She stuffs her hands into her pockets, following him out of the building.

She's made her decision, and she just hopes it the right one; because there's no going back on this one.


End file.
